


Out of Context Everything Sounds Dirty

by Animercom



Category: Gintama
Genre: Card Games, Comedy, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 12:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17386148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animercom/pseuds/Animercom
Summary: "When I tilt mine, stuff comes out", "Mine is addicting", and "Mine is hairy", are just a few of the "innocent" hints given by Gintoki and co. in the game What's Yours Like? But if Gintoki wants to be paid for entertaining Seita, he must keep things clean: clearly an impossible task.You don't need to have played What's Yours Like? before to understand.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Came up with this fic when I was playing the game What's Yours Like? with my family. Don't worry, you don't need to have played the game before to understand the fic; the rules are explained within it. If you are ever confused by the turn order or the seating arrangement, the next chapter has both listed. So if you need it, you got it. It also has extra gags that didn't make it into the story so check it out after reading this. Rated older teen (16+).

Outside the window, birds chirped. From below, the rhythmic sound of a broom sweeping was soothing enough to lull anyone to sleep. Murmurs of the passerby on the streets gently floated upwards. The soft snores of the dog were occasionally interrupted by—

_PFFT!_

…the loud farting whenever he rolled over.

Thanking the gods that the farts were loud and not silent but deadly, the master of the house plopped into his desk chair. He swung his feet up onto the desk and leaned back in the chair as far as it could go. After pulling out a magazine from a drawer, he flipped through it, giving the many pages a cursory once over.

“Aaah,” he sighed. “No Hunter x Hunter again. And after the last few chapters were so good, too. Is his wife gonna take over or what? Just the thought of that has gotta hurt him right in the—”

 Someone slammed open the sliding door so hard it smashed into the door frame like two crashing tectonic plates. “Gin-chan!” Kagura hollered. Marching up to his desk, she declared, “We’re almost out of sukonbu. If you don’t do something, I’m gunna starve!”

Gintoki glanced up from his issue of JUMP, then his dead fish eyes flickered downwards and he flipped another page. “You’re not starving.”

Kagura fisted the front of Gintoki’s shirt and pulled him forward until their faces were only centimeters apart. She singlehanded cracked the knuckles of her other hand. “What was that?”

“H-Here have 300 yen…”

“Hmph.” Frowning, Kagura released the naturally permed haired man and snatched up the offered yen. She whirled around, heading towards the front door. “That’s still nowhere near enough to cover my salary. Wake up, Sadaharu. We’re going for a walk.”

“Wait, so we’re not almost out of sukonbu?” exclaimed Gintoki. After yawning, Sadaharu picked himself up and followed his young master towards the door. “Come back and give me my 300 yen! Hey! _Oi_!”

Ignoring Gintoki’s cries, Kagura slid open the front door with more unnecessary force, breaking the sliding door’s frame into two. Shinpachi, who was standing on the other side of the door with his hand raised, flinched. “I’m leaving,” muttered Kagura as she passed the walking glasses model. Sadaharu obediently trailed behind.

“Come back safely,” smiled Shinpachi, looking over his shoulder at the exiting pair. After gently closing the door and changing footwear, Shinpachi entered the Yorozuya main room. “Good morning, Gin-san.” Gintoki grunted. Upon seeing the wrecked remains of the door to side room, Shinpachi sighed. “Why do you always have to makes messes so early in the morning? Guess there’s no helping it…”

Once again, Gintoki was lulled by the rhythmic sound of a broom sweeping as Shinpachi swept up the splintered wooden fragments and dust. Gintoki’s black shirt absorbed the sun’s rays, warming his core as though he was a sick child who had just eaten his mother’s lovingly made chicken noddle soup. The murmur of the passerby increased in volume as more people left their homes to greet the new day.

_Knock-knock-knock._

“Who could that be?” Shinpachi wondered as he headed towards the door. When he reached the door, the young samurai raised his hand to slide it open.

The door burst inward towards Shinpachi, Katsura popping out of the hole like Bugs Bunny bursting through the Looney Tunes logo. “Gintoki, there’s an emergency!!!”

“Not this door, too,” bemoaned Shinpachi.

“Gintoki,” Katsura began, stepping through the large hole he just created in the door. One foot was in a bright white cast which resembled a boot. “I’ve broken my ankle and can’t return to headquarters. Therefore I must remain here.”

Shinpachi gripped the arm of his glasses, regarding Zura with narrowed eyes. “If you can’t return home how did you climb the stairs?”

“U-Uh…” Chuckling, Katsura lowered his head and crossed his arms, appearing as smug as a retreating kid bully who just got his butt served to him. “Naturally I ascended the stairs crawling on my stomach,” he declared, striding into the room. “It was exceedingly painful, but I knew that if I persisted I could rely on my dear fri—”  

“It doesn’t seem to be that painful,” deadpanned Shinpachi.

Katsura looked down to see he was now standing in the main room. “Ow, ow, ow!” He cried, hopping up and down on his one “good” foot.

Scowling, Gintoki pointed at his old classmate with the JUMP issue. “Zura, I’m sick of listening to your lame ass excuses to bug me every day. Leave this instant or I’ll—”

A horrible crunching caused everyone to jump. Tsukuyo opened the already opened sliding door by pushing her hand into the wall alongside the door so hard cracks appeared.

“Aah!” cried Gintoki. “The door was already open; you could have just walked through the doorway! Why the hell are there so many people here?”

“Gintoki,” Tsukuyo began, entering through the new doorway she created. “There is a matter that requires—”

“Gin-san!” called Seita, appearing from behind the Hyakka leader. Brandishing a yellow box overhead, he dashed up to the desk with all the enthusiasm of Sadaharu chasing after a female dog. “I want to play with ‘What’s Yours Like?’ with you!”

“That’s disgusting.” Gintoki declared, launching up from the chair up and backing up against the wall in horror. “Children your age shouldn’t be so brazenly talking about that.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Tsukuyo stepped alongside the young boy and held up the box for him. “It’s just a game. Look.” She took off the top of the box and held up a handful of orange and purple square cards.

Eyebrow raised, Gintoki took the proffered cards and read the words written on them aloud. “Dresser, Favorite Restaurant, Armpit… hey, what is this?”

“That’s what we’ve been trying to explain all this time,” Tsukuyo sighed. “It’s a game called ‘What’s Yours Like?’”

“This appears to be a most intriguing,” Katsura stated as he examined the back of the box. “How did you come across it?”

Tsukuyo explained, “Having recently gotten a failing grade on a history test—”

“Whose fault do you think that was?” Seita asked, glaring daggers at Gintoki and Tsukuyo. “Apparently all the gorillas died out long ago!”

“Hinowa believed that playing Lagoon Journey 9 was also partially to blame and—”

“It’s Dragon Quest IX!”

“And confiscated all of Seita’s video games, suggesting he play board games instead. Finding a lack of age appropriate games in Yoshiwara, we came to the surface where Seita chose to play ‘What’s Yours Like?’”

“So what, you want me to play now?” Frowning, Gintoki plopped down into his chair and propped up his feet on the desk. He flipped open his JUMP magazine and shoved his pinky up his nostril. “Sorry, kiddo, but my time is too valuable and precious to waste it on entertaining bored people. That includes you, Zura! All of you get out.”

Seita’s smile fell like a child whose parents had forgotten to bake a birthday cake. Tsukuyo placed a comforting hand on the lad’s shoulder. “How about this then? We ask to play as an official request to the Yorozuya.”

Leaping up from his chair, Gintoki clasped Tsukuyo’s free hand with both of his hands. “How do we play it?”

“Don’t touch me without washing your hands!” cried Tsukuyo, ripping her hand free and throwing a kunai dagger at his head.

Crossing his arms, Zura shook his head so mournfully one would have believed his grandmother was dead. “I’m disappointed in you, Gintoki. I never knew you were so heartless as to accept money to entertain children.”

“That’s called babysitting,” Shinpachi cut in.

“Before we get into playing the game,” Seita explained, “we should get more players. Six is a nice even number.”

“We have five already,” Shinpachi said, looking at everyone in turn. “Where are we going to get the last member?”

A horrible crash sounded from behind everyone. “Kotaro Katsura, you’re under arrest!!!” Kondo declared, brandishing his sword and kicking down the already crumbling wall next to open doorway.

“If everyone hates this place so much why do you keep coming here?!” Gintoki shouted, pulling his hair.

Stepping into the room, Kondo looked around. “Hmm. One of my men reported that they saw Katsura running up the stairs but that doesn’t appear to be the case.”

Gintoki glanced towards Katsura. In a panic, the Joishishi leader had shed his light blue haori and stuffed it under the table. _Are you kidding me?_ thought Gintoki. _You think that’ll be enough to fool anyone? I mean, I know people in anime rarely change clothes but what about your face—_

Katsura turned around to face his bitter rival, his two front strands of hair tied in a knot under his nose. “I’m afraid I don’t know of this ‘Katsura’ of whom you speak. I’m just a traveling merchant passing through Edo. I don’t know any of the local celebrities.”

“You don’t know?” Kondo said, sheathing his sword as he joined the group. “He’s the leader of a group of terrorists trying to take down the government. Nice mustache by the way.”

“Thank you,” grinned Katsura, fingering his “mustache”. “I’m quite fond of it myself.” Gintoki face palmed.

“Well, you’re better off not selling to these guys; they’re flat broke!” laughed the Shinsengumi commander. Scanning the room, Kondo asked, “But where are your wares?”

Beads of sweat running down his temple, Katsura glanced around the room. “Would you like to buy this game?” he asked, holding up the “What’s Yours Like?” box. Ignoring Seita’s indignant squeals, he continued, “We were just about to play a round ourselves. If you like, you can join us and determine for yourself if you would like to purchase it.”

_What are you doing, Zura? Shouldn’t the goal be to get him out of here?_

After Kondo agreed, Shinpachi smiled, “Great. Now that we have six members we can get started.”

“What are you talking about, glasses?” asked Gintoki. “Glasses don’t talk.”

“What? I’m not a pair of glasses! And I just had to have talked to you in order for you to have responded!”

Gintoki resigned himself to his fate with a drawn out sigh. Rubbing the back of his aching neck, he glanced out the window. “Now who would have enough free time on their hands to play a kid’s game…?”

In the alley across the street, Hasegawa sat in a cardboard box, staring out at the kids playing the street. A tumbleweed blew across the road. Gintoki’s hand stilled. Eyes downcast, Hasegawa hugged his knees to his chest.

* * *

 Holding out the “What’s Yours Like?” box to Hasegawa, who was now standing in the Yorozuya main room, Gintoki said, “Now here’s the rules.”

Accepting the box, Hasegawa glanced down at its back. A full ten seconds passed. He looked up again, his blank stare ever the same.

“I should have known better than to think Madaos can read. Here, glasses, read this aloud.”

“But you just said that glasses couldn’t speak! Oh, fine whatever.” Accepting the box, Shinpachi walked to the table and sat at its head on the ground. Following his lead, the other impromptu players sat on the couches. Once the straight man had retrieved the instructions and read them, he summarized it aloud for everyone. “The game begins when someone looks at a card and shows it to everyone but one player, who is in the ‘Hot Seat’. So let’s say that the card says ‘Hair’. Everyone who saw the card must now give hints that describe their hair so the player in the Hot Seat can guess what they’re describing. So Gin-san could say, ‘I hate mine’ and Katsura—I mean the traveling merchant—could say, ‘Mine is long’. Whoever is in the Hot Seat has to listen to everyone’s hints in order to realize they’re describing hair. The winner is whoever has correctly guessed what everyone is describing the most. Make sense?”

A horrible sinking sensation hit Gintoki, much like when Indiana Jones realized that the bag of sand wasn’t enough to match the golden head statue’s weight and the cavern began to shake. Holding out his hand, Gintoki cried, “So we’re all supposed to describe our version of whatever is written on the card?”

“Right,” nodded Shinpachi.

Dropping his head, Gintoki let his head fall into his hand. _How am I supposed to prevent Kondo-san from recognizing Zura when the point of the game is describing themselves?!_

Tsukuyo, who was sitting across from Gintoki, mused aloud, “Knowing everyone here, I bet there will be times when hints, which are given without context, are misinterpreted to mean something foul. Gintoki…” Summoning a shaky smile, Gintoki slowly raised his head. Raising three kunai daggers, Tsukuyo grinned as though she was the devil’s mistress. “Naturally it goes without saying that if Seita learns anything dirty, you won’t get paid.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” Gintoki laughed. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, Tsuki.” On the inside he screamed, _Crush me with a giant rolling boulder, I’m done!_

Taking the initiative, Katsura asked, “So who goes first?”

“According to the rules,” explained Shinpachi, “whoever suggested playing ‘What’s Yours Like?’ is in the Hot Seat first. After that the next guesser is the person to the left. Let’s just go in the order everyone is sitting at. So after Seita it’s Hasegawa-san, then hop over to the other couch and go to Kondo-san, Katsura—I mean the traveling merchant, Gin-san, and lastly Tsukuyo-san. Everyone ready? Good. Here’s the first card, and remember don’t show it to Seita!”

A hush fell over the room as the card was passed around. The silence only heightened the anticipation of the players as they all shared the same thought: What would playing this game be like? Gintoki received the card last and read the word written on it. _Hmm. A little anticlimactic, but if all the cards are as inconspicuous as this, then I don’t think I need to worry about Tsukuyo’s threats._ Gintoki looked up, giving everyone the signal that he was ready. After a pause, everyone fired hints like bullets from a machine gun.

“People say mine is empty,” asserted Zura.

“I wish mine could be bigger,” admitted Tsukuyo.

“Mine is starting to sag,” sighed the Madao.

“When I tilt mine, stuff comes out,” grinned Kondo.

Gintoki’s eyes widened to the size of satellite dishes. _It sounds dirty already?!_ The fiery flames of hellish anger rolled off of Tsukuyo in waves as she glared at Gintoki. _I can’t be held responsible for these idiots. And you helped contribute to the problem, too!_

“W-Well,” Gintoki stammered, the rusty gears of his brain turning. “Let’s see. Mine has five holes.”

“Uh…” Seita covered his mouth with a hand, his index finger resting on his nose. He blinked. “Hold on. One, two, three, four, five!” counted Seita, pointing to his nostrils, ears, and mouth. “Is it ‘Head’?” When the older man nodded, Seita cheered.

Gintoki let his head hang between his two legs as though he was about to hurl onto the floor. Holding the sides of his head, he thought, _And this is only the beginning. I’m screwed! I’m so screwed!_

“Does Seita get a point for realizing the Guess Word?” asked Katsura.

Frowning, Shinpachi inspected the instructions again. “It says here… well that’s stupid. I’ll spare you the details but trust me when I say that I think we should change it.” Gintoki snorted. After cutting him a glare, Shinpachi said, “Let’s have three rounds. Everyone gives their hint, then the person in the Hot Seat guesses once. If the Hot Seat Player guesses correctly after those first five hints, they’ll get three points. If they guess wrong, we’ll have a second round of everyone giving another set of hints. If they get right after then, they’ll get two points. If not, there’s a third round of hints. If they realize the correct Guess Word after that, they’ll get one point. If they’re wrong three times in a row, the Hot Seat player will be forced to give up and will be told the Guess Word. Then the next player goes. Sounds good? I’ll guess I’ll be the scorekeeper, since I’m not playing,” Shinpachi muttered angrily as he pulled out the “What’s Yours Like?” whiteboard and marker.

Writing down everyone’s names he said, “In order to win, let’s say the person with the highest number of points after three rounds of everyone being in the Hot Seat wins. So if there are no objections, let’s start the game over—Ah!” The names Shinpachi had written in the whiteboard began to disappear. “If they’re going to package such an awful white board with each game, they might as well not include it and save the money.” Fetching a notebook from the desk, Shinpachi asked, “Seita-kun, could you be in the Hot Seat again?”

After Seita’s agreement, another card was given to everyone. When Katsura received the chosen card, he frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. “But there are so many to choose from.” Crossing his arms, the Joi leader bowed his head and closed his eyes. “Hmm…”

After a period of silence which lasted longer than the amount of time for a turtle to cross a tabletop, Gintoki cried, “Just pick the obvious choice!”

“Fine,” Zura acceded. “Mine is white.”

“Ah, duck,” Seita exclaimed, a light bulb going off above his head. “No, I mean, favorite animal!”

“That was fast,” Zura said, his eyes wide. “How did you guess it so quickly?”

“Well, Elizabeth-san is white duck so when you said white Elizabeth-san was what I first thought of.”

“Elizabeth is my pet, not my favorite animal.”

“Huh? That doesn’t make but sense, but what is your favorite animal then?”

“Kimba the White Lion.”

“That’s so _old_!” Shinpachi cried. “And obscure! Lions aren’t normally white!”

“Wait,” Seita frowned, confused. “Do you mean the Lion King?”

Katsura slammed both of his hands on the table, yelling, “That’s a rip-off!!!” Seita jumped. Leaning forward, the he ranted like a fanatic. “Both Simba and Kimba’s fathers were the king of the jungle who—”

“And I think we should move on,” Gintoki said, fetching a card from the box. After seeing the card was labeled “Best Friend” he slid it across the table to Tsukuyo. Once all of the members except for Hasegawa glimpsed the card, the doling out of hints began. 

Seita smiled, “Mine I share my lunch with.”

Gintoki snorted, “I have none.”

“Hey!” shouted Shinpachi.

“I train with mine,” Tsukuyo said after a moment.

“Mine commit illegal acts,” nodded Zura, smiling.

“Mine arrest those who commit illegal acts…” Kondo said, turning to Katsura who sat beside him. The two stared at each other, their expressions neutral. Their eyes narrowed.

“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Gintoki. Standing up, he walked behind the couch. As though they were all good buddies, Gintoki wrapped his arms around Katsura’s and Kondo’s necks. “There are so many laws that I’m sure everyone has committed like, I dunno, 18 ‘illegal act’ during their lifetime. I’ve even heard that standing around in place for a long time is illegal. What a joke!”

“That’s right, it’s ridiculous,” Zura agreed. “What a waste of police force’s time.”

“It’s called loitering and it is a big deal,” corrected Kondo, glaring at Katsura as though he had suggested the idea. “All those young youths are wasting their time and disturbing the status quo.”

“Aha, ha, ha.” His carefree laughter quickly turned sour as Gintoki pleaded, “Hasegawa-san, guess already!”

As triumphant and cocky as the New York Yankees, the 27 time winner of the World Series, Hasegawa declared, “Drug dealers.”

“Wrong!” Gintoki snapped. “Mine are idiots!” Hasegawa slumped in the couch, as dejected as the Chicago Cubs, who, aside from a recent fluke, hadn’t won the World Series in a century.

Two more rounds of guessing occurred. Despite hints like “Mine is my classmate,” and “Mine is in a wheelchair” and even “Mine is right here in this room” Hasegawa had to be told that the Guess Word was “Best Friend”.

“Oh,” sighed Hasegawa. “How could I have guessed what I don’t have?”

Patting his arm, Seita empathized, “Don’t say that. I haven’t met you until today, but I’m having fun playing with you now. You’re my fri—”

“Don’t say that!” ordered Gintoki, snatching the boy’s hand from the Madao. “If you associate with him you might grow up to be a useless, homeless bum who drags down the rest of society like him.” Hasegawa trained his black puppy eyes on Gintoki. Shaking his head, the Yorozuya master returned to his seat. “Man, that was a close one. Well, let’s get going, yeah? Here comes the next card.”

Like a victim whose soul was stolen from him by a ghost, the Madao droned, “Mine is empty.”

“Ooh, your schedule!” guessed Kondo, who was the in the Hot Seat. When the others informed the police commander of the Guess Word, he smacked his knee. “Ha! I knew it!”

“This game is pretty fun,” chuckled Katsura. “Not quite the same caliber as Uno, but nonetheless still quite entertaining.”

Everyone had a smile on their face as the card was passed like a baton amongst themselves. With the first few turns down, the game’s appeal was self-evident; it was like experiencing the sadistic glee of bashing into little kids in bumper cars.

_“Clothes” is next word, huh?_ Looking at Katsura sitting to his right, Gintoki thought, _And Zura is in the Hot Seat. Let’s see if that airhead gets this._ Crossing his arms, Gintoki leaned back against the couch and smirked, “Mine hangs off my body.” A dagger lodged itself in his forehead. “Gah!”

“Hmph.” Tsukuyo slowly lowered her outstretched arm. “That’s what you get for sounding so filthy.” Raising her chin in the air, Tsukuyo declared, “Mine has hidden compartments which I hide things in.”

Before Gintoki could protest, Kondo happily declared, “I don’t use mine much.”

Uneasy, Seita stammered, “M-Mine is pretty simple, I guess.”

Hasegawa sighed, “It’d be really nice if I could get some new ones…” Out of the corner of his eye, Seita looked up at the hobo. The boy swallowed.

“Hmm,” Katsura pondered, tilting his head to the side. “What does everyone have that hangs off Gintoki’s body?”

_Y-You don’t have to phrase it like that, Zura…_

Katsura declined on giving a guess. “All right,” Shinpachi chirped, pointing his hand in the air. “Commencing round two of hints. If he gets it after this, he’ll get two points.”

_Looks like I’ve confused him._ Looking down at himself, Gintoki thought, _Maybe I should be a bit more obvious._ “Mine gives me weird tan lines.”

Katsura turned his head to look at his former White Demon. Like getting an eyelash in an eye, the rest of the world shrunk away, unimportant and irrelevant to the silent moment the two spent staring into each other’s eyes. Without warning, Katsura snapped his head forward. “Don’t worry. I’m not judging you.”

Oi _! What the hell are you thinking?!_

“I like mine in green,” smiled Seita. 

Hasegawa sighed, “I haven’t washed mine in years…” His smile gone, Seita scooched over and clung to Tsukuyo’s arm.

Completely oblivious to the sewer stench from across the table, Kondo happily said, “Mine is uniform.”

“Mine is… uneven,” Tsukuyo said.

“The hints in this round are completely different from the ones you first gave,” frowned Katsura. “And because of that I’ll have to pass again. Give me better hints!” Gintoki rolled his eyes.

Hasegawa sighed, “Mine has holes in place like right h—”

“Mine has a blue and white swirl pattern!”

“You mean clothes?” Katsura guessed, his eyes wide.

“Finally!” exclaimed Gintoki, raising his arms in the air like he was praising Buddha. 

“Since we started the third round of hints, that’s one point for Ka—the merchant,” noted Shinpachi, the scorekeeper.

“Then all those hints…” Katsura’s face soured like he had sucked on a lemon. “They’re quite… appalling. Especially the one about not ‘using’ them.”

“What are you talking about, Zura?” Gintoki asked. “You’re the one who took off your clothes without hesitation before the game.”

Everyone’s heads slowly turned to the male friends. Had a pin fallen, no one would have missed hearing it strike the ground. Katsura coughed into his fist. In a high pitched voice, he squeaked, “Good evening. I’m Santa Claus—”

Gintoki punched the back of Zura’s head. “Don’t reuse old gags! And how dare you blame Santa Claus for your actions!”

Tsukuyo reached into her kimono and pulled out her pipe. Her hands trembling, she fumbled with the lighter, nearly dropping it. “I-It’s okay. It’s fine, Gintoki. Do whatever you like, I don’t care one bit.”

_You do care! You gripping your favorite pipe so hard cracks are appearing. Why do you care so much?_

Tears in his eyes, Hasegawa smiled, “So I wasn’t the only one you bent ov—”

“SHUT UP!!!” screamed Gintoki, leaping up from his seat. “I’m in the Hot Se—I’m the next guesser so—” He snatched a card from the box and thrust it at Tsukuyo. “Here!”

Putting her pipe to her lips, Tsukuyo drew in a breath and closed her eyes. She released the smoke slowly until— “Bleugh! Ahack-hack, ahah, hack!” She began gagging. Gintoki swiveled to his right, offering the card to Katsura. Smiling, he raised his hand to take it, but Gintoki abruptly turned to Seita, who sat next to Tsukuyo, and chucked the card to him.

“I-I don’t understand. What’s going o—?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just read the card and pass it on, got it? Got it. Good! A+, kid.”

Seita’s eyes shifted between the card and Gintoki several times before he finally answered, “Mine is a good cook,” and handed the card over to Hasegawa to his left.

The Madao took one look at the card and burst into tears. He kneaded the ends of his hands into his eyes, globs of snot hanging out of his nostrils. “Mine abandoned me, or I should say, I abandoned mine!”

_That could be anything!_ Gintoki thought. _Your pride, ego, self-esteem! Wait—hold on. Seita-kun said that his was a good cook, which means the guess word is a person. And we already did “Best Friend” so it’s gotta be…_

Still coughing slightly, the Hyakka leader turned her head away, shielding her mouth with a hand. Her amethyst eyes flickered in Gintoki’s direction as she muttered, “Mine just… revealed themselves.”

A wicked grin any RPG last boss would be jealous of took root on Gintoki’s face. _Hearing about this mysterious person will be worth sacrificing a few points._

When Kondo laid his dirty mitts on the card, his resting dumb expression vanished quicker than a bowl full of egg on rice in placed in front of Kagura. Standing up, he lifted his head to the heavens with his mouth hanging open like a demented donkey. “On rainy days mine likes to massage their feet.” Katsura raised his hand to obtain the Guess Word card from the police officer, but Kondo continued, “Instead of starting at the top of the foot, mine starts at the heel! Amazing isn’t it? And mine rubs their feet in small circles counterclockwise, never ever clockwise, and…”

 Shinpachi, who out of boredom was doodling, stilled his hand. Slowly he lifted his head, his coal colored eyes smoldering.

“And as mine rubs their feet, they sing ‘Jones Good Ass BBQ and Foot Massage’ over and over.”

“Oh, really?” said Gintoki, giving Kondo a wide-eyed look. “There are so many people who like their feet massaged, I couldn’t possibly guess as to who this card is referring to.”

Shinpachi’s glare intensified into two burning arrows aimed at the back of Gintoki’s head.

“I was really curious so I looked it up. Apparently it’s actually a restaurant where they fry anything you want and massage your feet with any kind of condiment imaginable. But I searched all over the place and I can’t find it anywhere! But if it’ll make mine happy, I’ll slick their feet down with anything. Even my tongue—”

Just as Shinpachi was about to snap like Jack Torrance of _The Shinning_ did, Katsura took the initiative and snatched the card from the disturbing cupid. Katsura took one look at the card and his face reddened. “A-Ah… Hmm. Well. I don’t—” 

“Spit it out, Zura. We don’t got all day,” Gintoki droned, picking his nose. Shinpachi’s fingers balled up the notebook paper.

“Minehasanicelaugh.” The blushing rebel leader smacked down the card on the table before jerking his hand away like it was a vial of smallpox. He stuffed his hands into his kimono and bowed his head as though he was a high school girl who accidently blurted her feelings to her senpai.

Seita, the only one unoccupied, and Shinpachi, whose eyes had never wavered from their target, looked to Gintoki to guess. “Well now,” Gintoki sighed, scratching the top of his head. “I just don’t know. I mean, everyone gave completely different hints.” His pitch becoming nasally, he whined, “‘Give me better hints!’

“And you, Tsuki,” grinned the silver haired slimy worm. “I’m quite interested in hearing your hint.” Leaning forward, he turned his head to the side, cupping the ear facing the Yoshiwara courtesans’ guardian. “Let’s hear more about this person who ‘revealed’ themselves to you.”

Her eyes on the window, Tsukuyo mumbled, “Mine come at night.”

Chuckling deep in his throat, Gintoki wagged his eyebrows. “Is that an invitation?” A dagger lodged itself between his eyes.

Although her tone had enough poison to rival a rattlesnake, Tsukuyo’s face had a tint of red to it. “W-Why would you think I was talking about you? I’m talking about my friends who are courtesans at Yoshiwara.”

“What? You can’t do that! That’s cheating!”

“Actually, you can according to the instructions,” smirked Shinpachi, pushing up his glasses higher on his nose. “If what the Guess Word doesn’t apply to you, you can talk about other people in which the Guess Word does relate to. But you’re supposed to proceed it with ‘My friend’ or ‘my neighbor’ and the like.”

Tsukuyo lifted her chin just so, covering her mouth with a dainty hand, as though she was a noble. But the glint in her eyes and grin resembled more of the lowly, but sneaky prostitute. “My mistake.” The two chuckled deep in their throats.

Steam poured out from Gintoki’s ears. Grinding his teeth into nubs, he bit out, “Lover.”

Pulling on her sleeve, Seita frowned, “Tsukuyo-nee, what are you talking about? Why can’t Gin-san visit us at night? Why can’t he come whenever he wants?”

Gintoki raised an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t give me that, kid. You’re not that innocent. I mean you live smack dab in the center of the biggest pros—”

“Mine farts pink clouds!”

Everyone turned to see Kondo still standing up with his head and arms lifted towards the heavens. “And cooks the most de—”

Shinpachi handed Gintoki a card. “Here. This is the next one.”

The Guess Word card traded hands until Hasegawa accepted it. At the drop of a hat, his shoulders, who were shaking with his sobs, were thrown back. The gobs of snot, which had been swaying in the breeze, were sucked back up into his nose. His hands, which had been pressed to his eyes to contain his tears, were fisted with purpose. Standing up, the Madao pronounced, “Mine is…” He put his head in a rope noose hanging from the ceiling, about to hang himself. “…no more.”

“Your future,” guessed Tsukuyo.

“Oh come on!” complained Gintoki, getting up from his seat. After ripping the noose free from the ceiling, he tossed the rope through the nonexistent front door. “This isn’t charades! Stop trying to make it easy for Tsukuyo to win!”

Hasegawa blankly stared at his friend as Gintoki shook his head as he returned to his seat. Slowly the hobo sank into his seat, resting his forehead in the palm of his hand. After a moment, his shoulders began to shake.

* * *

With everyone having been in the Hot Seat once, Seita once again would be the guesser. Gintoki read “Hobby” on the card and immediately one thing sprang to his mind. Pumping his fist, he grinned, “Digging for gold!”

“Wow, Gin-san!” an awed Seita revered. “I didn’t know you dug for gold. Can you show me what you’ve found sometime?”

“Yeah, I can show you right n—”

“Don’t listen to him, Seita-kun,” Shinpachi interrupted. “If Gin-san had any gold, he’d be off on some island somewhere. He’s nothing but another lying, cheating adult.”

“Hey!”

Hasegawa volunteered, “Mine is scaring little kids at parks.” When he noticed everyone’s looks, he frowned, “What?”

“Er…” Tsukuyo stammered, fiddling with her pipe once again. “Mine is—or my friend is—having 200 million yen in—”

“Wow, Tsukuyo-nee!” an awed Seita revered. “Do you have gold, too?”

“U-Um…”

 Katsura crossed his arms and smirked. “There is no greater satisfaction than giving others diarrhea.” Oblivious to the others’ stares, Katsura continued to grin to himself.

“Mine is watching mine massage their feet,” Kondo beamed, clasping his hands.

“Well, Seita-kun?” asked Shinpachi. “Have a guess?”

“Are you kidding me?” Seita exclaimed. “How could I? What does digging for gold and giving people diarrhea have in common?!”

Gintoki raised a finger. “Actually, they’re more related than you’d think.”

Shinpachi cut in, “So round two begins—”

“What is this, some fighting game?”

“—Hasegawa-san, what’s your hint?”

“Mine is having cans and rotten vegetables being thrown at me.”

_That’s not your hobby!_ Gintoki thought. _That’s other people’s hobbies!_

Tsukuyo said, “My friends’ are to fulfill the dreams of others.”

_Seriously?_ That’s _your attempt to remain PG?_ After sighing, Gintoki offered, “Well, mine is something I did this morning.”

Everyone stared at him and Katsura.

When he realized the reason behind their looks, Gintoki slammed his hands on the table and cried, “No, not that!”

Tears in his eyes, Hasegawa smiled, “So it did happ—”

“NO!!!”

Katsura cleared his throat, gaining everyone’s attention. “Mine is using nmaibo as smokescreen. No terrorist living on the run should go without them.”

Kondo grinned, “Mine is catching terrorists.” He blinked. Kondo and Katsura turned their heads to look at each other. They narrowed their eyes. The proverbial gauntlet had been thrown.

“Mine is disguising myself.”

“Mine is routing the Joi rebels.”

“Mine is undergoing TV interviews to propagandize our vision of this country.”

“Mine is interrogating the Joishishi members until they crack and tell us of all their plans.”

As furious as a hornet, Katsura reached for the hilt of his sword, about to sting his prey. “Mine is using weapons like this to cut down the Shinsen—”

Gintoki rested his elbow on top of Katsura’s head, pushing him forward. “Now, now, boys! There’s nothing to be arguing about here.”

“What are you talking about? He sounds like he’s a Joi rebel. I was just about to take him down to the station for questioning.”

“He’s a traveling merchant, remember? If he’s just passing through, how could he be a terrorist, let alone know who Katsura Kotaro is?”

“But he was just reaching for his sword—”

“To show you what fine quality it is! He wanted to see if you were interested in buying it. Disemboweling you and ripping out your entrails was the farthest thing from his mind, I assure you.”

As if he was an actual monk, Katsura raised his head and decried Gintoki’s blasphemy with, “It’s heresy for a samurai to sell his sword, his very soul—” Like a power drill, Gintoki hammered his elbow into Zura’s head. “Ow!”

“And you, Zura—Merchant-san, what’s an interrogation or two between friends? I mean, this game feels like an interrogation for one. And two, isn’t it every man’s dream to interrogate his crush and learn their phone number, home address, and favorite perfume?”

Tears in his eyes, Kondo gave the Yorozuya founder a standing ovation. “Yes, yes it is! And I already know them all!”

“Right, right? I wish I could interview Ketsuno Ana.”

“Ketsuno Ana _janai_. Katsura _da_!”

“Did he just say his name is Ka—?”

“And anyway, the two of you gave way too many hints! So what are we going to do?”

Like a dim light bulb going off above his head, Hasegawa added, “Mine is reading the newspaper.”

“You don’t read the newspaper; you use it as a blanket or to wipe your ass with! And giving more hints was not a suitable answer!”

“Seita,” Tsukuyo instructed. “Watch closely. This is mine.” She hurled a kunai at Gintoki’s forehead.

“Gah!”

“Is it people’s hobbies?” guessed Seita.

“Yes, it is. Good job. You were taught well.”

Breathing through his clenched teeth, Gintoki pulled the kunai out of his head. _Why the hell did I agree to play this game?_

“But how many points do I get?” Seita asked. “Although we were only on the second round, I was given so many hints.”

“Since Kondo-san and Ka—the merchant are airheads, we should still count that as the second round and give you two points, Seita-kun,” offered Shinpachi.

“What?” Gintoki objected. “No way! That makes it all the easier for him to win!”

Tsukuyo crossed her arms, her eyes regarding Gintoki as coolly as ice. “And what’s the problem with a little kid winning? Unless, of course, you’re a kid yourself.”

Crossing his arms, Zura shook his head so mournfully one would have believed his grandmother was dead. “I’m disappointed in you, Gintoki. I never knew you were so heartless as to not allow a child to have a handicap.”

Letting out an irritated exhale, Gintoki conceded, “Fine, whatever. Let him have his two points.” _After all there’s no way an adult can’t win at a kid’s game._

The next card was shared among the players. With Hasegawa in the Hot Seat, Gintoki knew the chances of him correctly guessing the right word were as great as an ameba winning the 100 meter dash at the Olympics. Frowning, Gintoki read “Worst Nightmare” on the card. Flashbacks of the aftermath of a certain New Year’s party came to mind. He shouted, “You guys made mine come true!”

Tsukuyo confessed, “Mine would be not being able to protect Hinowa and Seita.”

His face twitching, Seita leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. Sweat dripped off his brow like the Niagara Falls. “M-Mine is the memory of Tsukuyo-nee training me…”

“Undoubtedly,” Katsura began, as serious as Matsudaira carrying out a hit on his daughter’s boyfriend. “Mine would be dying.”

_The Nobleman of Fury is scared of dying?_ Gintoki frowned. A strange sense of disappointment twinged his heart, like thinking you’re eating an orange, only to find out you’ve bitten into a tangerine instead.

“Dying…” Katsura opened his eyes. “Without having lived a beautiful life.”

_Zura… you remember that?_

“Dying,” Katsura continued, “without having given my all in shaping this country for the better.”

“Dying,” Kondo added, “and being unable to protect the citizens of Edo from the wicked.”

The two men clasped each other’s hands. “That’s correct, Kondo-san. It is our duty as men to protect Edo from those who would destroy it.”

“Yes, I can’t imagine a greater fear than seeing Edo destroyed.”

“Hey!” Gintoki cried. “What’s will all this buddy-buddy nonsense? Weren’t the two of you about to kill each other last round?”

“Yes, we have to protect Edo from being destroyed by—”

At the same Katsura and Kondo said:

“The Bakufu—”

“The Joishishi—”

“And so we’re starting on round two of hints!” smiled Gintoki, as he pushed Kondo’s and Katsura’s faces apart.

“But what about my guess?” the gypped Hasegawa asked.  

“Do you have a guess?”

“No.”

“Then why are you speaking?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then maybe you should stop speaking.”

“Okay.”

“Aye, aye, aye. It’s like taking of care of a bunch of children, I’m telling you,” complained Gintoki as he returned to his seat.

“You are a bunch of adults playing a children’s game,” said Shinpachi.

“Shut up, glasses.”

Two more rounds of guessing occurred. Despite hints like “Being trapped in the dark,” and “Being chased” and even “The scary face my mom gave me when she took my Dragon Quest IX from me” Hasegawa had to be told that the Guess Word was “Worst Nightmare”.

“Oh,” sighed Hasegawa. “How could I have guessed what I don’t have?”

“You don’t have nightmares, Hasegawa-san?” Shinpachi asked.

Covering his eyes with his hands, the Madao sobbed, “Living is my worst nightmare!”

“M-Maybe you should seek professional help…”

Rubbing his hands together, Kondo anxiously watched as the man with the natural perm directed the passing of the card. Last time Kondo was in the Hot Seat, Hasegawa’s hint had been so obvious, Kondo had deduced the Guess Word in the first round. However, he wasn’t the only to have accomplish such a feat. If he wanted to stay on top of the competition, he would have to hold a repeat performance.  

Like a mother proudly staring down at her child who aced a test, Gintoki pounded his chest and proclaimed, “Mine is addicting.”

“Favorite drug!” blurted Kondo.

“Wrong!” corrected Gintoki. “Aren’t all drugs addicting? And who the hell has a favorite drug?”

“Dead people,” commented Shinpachi. “Since Kondo-san guessed, it’s now round two of hints.”

_So it’s not a drug?_ thought Kondo. _Then what else could be addicting? Several things come to mind…_

“It’s a bit of a stretch, but I could do that,” mumbled Tsukuyo. When Kondo said he couldn’t hear her, she revealed, “When I partake in mine, I am told that wildly aggressive.” At Gintoki’s muffled laughter, Tsukuyo’s lips pressed into a thin white line.

_That more or less fits what I was thinking. But I shouldn’t be too hasty._

“I don’t know what to say either,” Katsura admitted, his expression a mix between confusion and displeasure, much like the face one makes when constipated. “I know what I would choose, but I can’t discount Ikumatsu-dono…” Clawing his head, Katsura grimaced, “How can I possibly decide?”

“Just choose something, Zura,” scolded Gintoki. “It’s not a life or death situation.”

“I… I… Mine is long!”

_Well that could be any number of things._      

Like a baby whose candy was taken away, Hasegawa wailed, “Mine is what I find in dark alleys!”

_…I really hope you don’t find it in alleyways. Maybe it’s not what I’m thinking of. After all, this is a kid’s game, right? So Seita’s hint should be very helpful—_

Seita’s gaze met Kondo’s eyes and he smiled. “Balls.”

Kondo blinked. He fingers gripped his pants legs. _No helping it then._ “After listening to all your hints, I’ve reached my decision.” With the sun’s rays as his backdrop, he arose from his seat, as grave as a judge about to announce his verdict. “I’m betting everything on it’s this.” He reached towards the fly of his pants.

Something thin and sharp cut into his eye. “Gah!” After blinking the tears away, he opened his eyes to see a card with the words “Favorite Food” staring up at him.

“Favorite food?!” Kondo cried. “How could that be?”

Gintoki, whose hand was raised in the perverted police chief’s direction, said, “Everyone, what’s your favorite food? Mine is a strawberry parfait.”

Flustered, Tsukuyo muttered, “Mine is drinking saké.”

“Mine is soba. Or ramen,” Zura added, a wince of regret on his face.

“Whatever I find in dark alleys,” blubbered Hasegawa.

“Takoyaki,” smiled Seita. “Octopus balls.”

“Octopus balls? Octopus balls?!” Kondo cried, his voice reaching an octave no man with what Kondo believed the real answer to be should be able to do. “How could I have possible guessed that it was favorite food from such misleading hints? I mean two of them still sound dirty!”

“That’s zero points for Kondo-san,” remarked Shinpachi with a flourish of his pencil. “For he betted everything on his last guess.”

While Kondo continued his ranting, another card was exchanged. As predictably as a bad soap opera, Tsukuyo was once again struggling to come up with a good hint. “After a good work out, mine gets… moist.”

Scratching his gut, Hasegawa said, “I don’t work out but mine gets moist anyway.”

Raising a finger, Gintoki said, “Ditto.”

“Uh…” pondered Seita. “Although it’s a bit strange for boys, mine is covered.”

The moment Kondo glimpsed the card, he ceased his rambling and grinned, “I touch mine excessively.”

Everyone turned to Katsura with smiles on their faces. Katsura stared at all of them. Sighing, he bowed his head, pressing his first three fingers to his forehead. “I pass.”

Frowning, Tsukuyo admitted, “I try daily to make mine not smell.”

Hasegawa shrugged, “I don’t do anything to stop mine from smelling.”

“Yeah, people probably think mine stink, too,” added Gintoki.

“Um,” Seita began, “When I’m scared, mine stands on end.”

Kondo grinned, “No matter what I’m feeling, mine sta—”

Katsura raised a hand. “That’s enough. Now to examine the clues you have given me in hopes of unraveling this mystery.”

“What are you Detective Conan?” Gintoki asked.

“Tsukuyo-dono’s hint of attempting daily to mask the odor, along with a couple of other hints, suggests that she is speaking of a body part. However, the Guess Word isn’t ‘Favorite Body Part’, because Gintoki would have been speaking about his manhood.”

“Hey, don’t single me out when there’s someone here who hasn’t talking about his since the beginning of the game!”

“And we’ve already had both ‘Clothes’ and ‘Head’. Unfortunately, at this time I am unsure as to what body parts everyone is describing so I’ll have to pass on guessing this round.”

 “You have some idea, don’t you?” Gintoki insisted. “Then why don’t you say it? This isn’t poker.”

Tsukuyo closed her eyes. “Mine doesn’t get a lot of sunlight.”

Leaning back, Hasegawa declared, “Mine is fully exposed at all times, even now.”

Gintoki scratched the underside of his chin. “Yeah, mine doesn’t get a lot of sun—”

“Stop piggybacking on other people’s hints!”

“Fine,” he huffed. Gintoki laid his arm on the back of the couch and looked up at the ceiling, thinking. “Ah! I know. Because of some genetics whatnots, mine has one that is longer than the other.”

Seita said, “Mine is the spot mother cats like.”

“All mother cats pick up their young by the scruff of their neck!” Zura cried, jabbing his finger at the boy. “The nape of the neck!” Standing up, he pointed to Tsukuyo. “Armpit!” He turned to Hasegawa. “Belly Button!” In confirmation of his answer, Hasegawa dug into his navel, and then raised a finger with a piece of lint on it. Katsura spun to Kondo. The two stared at each other. Katsura swiveled to Gintoki. “And feet!” Crossing his arms, Zura smirked, “I consider this _Case Closed_.” Believing himself to be far funnier than he was, Katsura broke into a fit of low chuckles.

 “That’s great,” Gintoki intoned, arm still draped across the couch. “What’s the Guess Word?”

Katsura stopped laughing. Bending over slightly, he clawed his head, sweating like a hot dog on a hot day. “What’s that—? I don’t—that is to say—” Like the Statue of Liberty blazing a new path into foreign lands, he raised his arm to the sky and declared, “Birthmark location!”

Gintoki head fell into his hand. “It’s ticklish spot.”

Katsura glomped Gintoki’s boot. “But if we check everyone’s maybe they’ll have a birthmark there—”

Gintoki booted Katsura’s face. “That’s irrelevant!”

“Awock—!” Katsura careened backwards, crashing onto the table. 

“I’m in the Hot Seat now, so hurry up look at the card, and start giving me hints!” demanded Gintoki as though he was a dictator.

Picking himself up, Katsura winced, “My favorite in mine is Chim-Chim.”

Gintoki asked, “Chin chin?”

Kondo chuckled, “Mine has sentient dust bunnies.”

Gintoki gaped, “That has got to be the most random thing I have heard in my entire life.”

Seita smiled “The spinoff of mine causes unplanned and spontaneous flash mobs in North and South America, Europe, and select countries of Africa and Asia!”

Gintoki stammered, “O-Okay…”

Hiding his eyes with an arm, Hasegawa sobbed, “Mine was confiscated by a judge!”

Gintoki cursed, “What the hell is that?!”

Tsukuyo said “Mine friends’ are used for… educational purposes.

Gintoki asked “Educational purposes?

Tsukuyo nodded

Gintoki frowned, As much as I would like to guess, I don’t have any idea about how the hints relate to each other. Go on to the next round.”

Seita said I wanna be the very best like no one ever was.

Gintoki exclaimed That’s a statement; not a hint!”

Tsukuyo smirked Mine guides my friends’ through despair and hope, through faith and love ‘til we find our place in Yoshiwara’s circle of life.

Gintoki: …

Kondo shrugged: Mine is either a cutesy incarnation of children’s magic or a god of death.

Gintoki cringed: Don’t ever say the word ‘cutesy’ again. And don’t you think that would be important to figure out before children start dying?

Hasegawa sobbed: Mine was confiscated because of the Kinniku Buster wrestling move!

Gintoki frowned: That’s sounds familiar…

Katsura smirked: Mine is secretly his older brother, Rex, who ran away from home years ago.

Gintoki: That also sounds familiar…

Gintoki: Wait, hold on. What is this?

Shinpachi: What is what?

Gintoki: This! This format! Why is everyone speaking in script?!

Katsura: But, Gintoki, if we didn’t follow the script, we’d be in trouble, right?

Gintoki: This is a fan fiction; not the anime!!! And do you know what happens to fan fictions whose writers are too lazy to actually write? They get taken off the website!

Kondo: What? By who?

Gintoki: By admins going by the name of Critics United, that’s who! And frankly, they’re completely justified in taking down “stories” written in script!

Seita: But isn’t only a small part of the story is written in script? What happens then?

Gintoki: I… I don’t know.

Hasegawa: Then we should be all right if we continue to talk in script, right? The beginning is all written out, then the last half can be all in—

Gintoki: NO! It’s not worth risking! Too much effort was put into the beginning to be lazy in the last half. Effort must be put forth in every bit of this story or it isn’t a story at all!

Tsukuyo: Isn’t that a bit of an oxymoron?

Katsura: Moron _janai_ , Katsura _da_!

Gintoki: Return to speaking normally this instant!

Seita: Aw, but can’t we continue using script until you guess the Guess Word?

Shinpachi: Seems pretty reasonable to me.

Katsura: I agree.

Kondo: So do I.

Everyone but Gintoki: Yeah!!!

Gintoki: STOP ABUSING THE SCRIPT FORMAT!!!

Shinpachi: But you’re abusing the Caps Lock…

Gintoki: Ugh, fine. Whatever. I just hope that this’ll be a compromise the Critics United will be willing to accept… if not, enjoy this limited time offer of this section because it’ll be edited out soon.

Katsura: :( 

Gintoki: STOP IT!!!

Gintoki: Since we’ve been wrapped up in all this mess, I’ve completely forgotten what your hints were. Give me more.

Katsura: Of course. Mine is—I-I don’t know...

Gintoki: Eh?

Shinpachi: Apparently it’s too much effort to come up with more hints.

Gintoki: Seriously? Oh, come on!

Shinpachi: Well, this works in your favor. If you guess the word correctly now, you’ll get two points. And besides you can scroll upwards and reread the hints, can’t you?

Gintoki: But if I do that, it’ll be like rewinding time. And the last time we messed with time, your sister married a sound effect—a similar case of wall breaking humor to what’s occurring now.

Tsukuyo: We could just repeat ourselves.

Gintoki: No, that’ll be extending the length of this script! I’ll just guess it in one—If I recall, Seita-kun said “I wanna be the very best like no one ever was” which any fan worth their salt would immediately recognize it as the opening line of the famous theme song of Pokamon! Therefore my guess is favorite TV series!

Kondo: It’s actually “Favorite Movie Collection” but that’s close enough.

Eyes narrowing, Gintoki leaned back against the couch’s back, examining everyone in turn. “Then what was everyone else’s favorite movie?”

Hasegawa frowned, “Mine was the box of thirty porn mags and DVDs the judge confiscated in that one episode where I was put on trial for accidently doing the Kinniku Buster wrestling move.”

Katsura saluted, “Go, go, Speed Racer!”

Kondo smiled, “Totoro.”

Tsukuyo coughed, “Mine was referring to videos used my courtesans friends’ training which I hinted about using lines from movie The Lion King.”

Gintoki sucked in a breath through his nose, appearing for all intents and purposes to be a bull about to charge. “I thought I told you to stop speaking in psudeo script.”

Shinpachi chuckled, “I think you can relax, Gin-san. A fic being taken down for having the same humor as the original series it’s based on would be as ironic as aliens, time travelers, and espers scouring the town for aliens, time travelers, and espers like in the Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya.” 

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t be Gintama if it didn’t have a risk of being pulled off the air, or in this case, being taken off the website. But let’s just get started on the next card already,” Gintoki said, stealing the “What’s Yours Like?” box that sat next to Shinpachi. “We’ve wasted enough time already. The length of this game is absurd.” Gintoki selected a card and read it. “Mine is meant for young boys but even so I can’t get rid of it and buy all that I can.”

Tsukuyo blew out a cloud of smoke into the air. “Shonen JUMP. Favorite reading material.”

“That’s three points for Tsukuyo-san,” remarked Shinpachi with a twirl of his pencil.

Gintoki grounded his teeth, smoke curling out of his ears like a cartoon bull. _Damn it…_

* * *

With Tsukuyo having finished her second turn at being in the Hot Seat, the game entered the last round of players in the Hot Seat. However, the pressure was apparently the farthest thing from everyone’s mind; like gossiping schoolgirls trading notes in class, everyone chuckled as they passed the next card around.

Scratching an obscene place, Hasegawa said, “Mine is the doghouse.”

Katsura bowed his head. “Mine is hairy.”

Like a proud papa whose kid scored a grand slam, Kondo announced, “Mine is partially covered.”

“Mine is hard,” Tsukuyo said. Gintoki snorted. Grinding her teeth, she raised a knife about to skewer the Yorozuya master like a shish kabob. Gintoki smacked Shinpachi upside the head.

Holding his head, Shinpachi cried, “Hey!”

Confused, Tsukuyo looked between the two.

Continuing the game, Gintoki said, “Mine is wet.”

Like a freshmen stumbling into a senior classroom, Seita looked around at everyone in confusion. “I don’t have any idea.”

Gintoki froze. _Seita-kun was in the Hot Seat? If I keep going like this I would have endured all this suffering for free!_ His mind on his empty wallet, Gintoki said, “Uh… you wouldn’t want to eat off of mine.”

“Mine is dusty,” explained Katsura.

“Yeah,” Kondo laughed, “The last time mine was cleaned I turned into an army of giant centipedes.”

“That’s so cool!” Seita gushed, his eyes shining like stars. “How do I become one?”

Crossing his arms, Kondo smirked, “First you have to be completely overcome by bacteria ball—”

“Tsukuyo, what’s your hint?” Gintoki cut in.

“Mine has little bits of—”

Although he had vowed otherwise, Gintoki couldn’t resist. He rubbed a little bit of blood off his forehead and examined his bloody fingertips with all the fascination of a kid watching the preview of the next DBZ episode.

“Of paper!” Tsukuyo cried. “Not blood!”

Hasegawa freely admitted, “Mine is wherever the urge strikes me.”

Yet again, Seita had to pass giving a hint because he had no idea how to turn into a centipede. Gintoki heralded the third round with, “It’s the place to look over one’s favorite reading material.” A knife tore into his forehead.

“Ah!” Seita exclaimed. “The bathroom!” As disturbed as Otae would have been if she caught Shinpachi with Ho Love Ru in his room, Tsukuyo gaped at Seita. He continued, “I always read JUMP when I’m stuck on the toilet.”

“So do I.” Streams of blood running down his face, Gintoki devilishly grinned at Tsukuyo. “I couldn’t imagine reading anything other than that.”

“You b—”

“What are you so mad about, Tsukuyo-nee? I only read it before I wipe.”

“You shouldn’t read anything in there at all!”

“Well, the card was technically ‘Bathroom Floor’,” Shinpachi corrected. “But I’ll give it to you.”

Despite Tsukuyo’s ongoing cries the card, “Favorite Celebrity” was selected. As though he was the last child to be picked for a team in PE, Hasegawa forlornly gazed at his companions as the shared the card amongst themselves. Gintoki began with, “Mine is a ch—Ah, screw it. It’s Hasegawa-san. He won’t get it anyway. Mine is Chef Ramsey.”

“Chef Ramsey?” Shinpachi repeated. “Isn’t he British? How do you know him?”

Gintoki picked his nose. “It’s WAY too much effort for an American to look up Japanese you-know-what.”

“Then why is did you say someone British…?”

Zura said, “Mine is the singers Beetles.”

“That’s so _old_!” Shinpachi cried. “And they’re also British! Not to mention, didn’t they sing songs about peace?”

“And why would liking someone who promotes peace be a problem?” Kondo asked, curiosity aroused. “We were just talking about protecting Edo together earlier.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Katsura affirmed, turning to the police commander. “That’s why I said such a peace loving group was my favorite.”

Kondo nodded. “Makes sense.”

_Wow, Zura,_ Gintoki thought. _You handled that all on your own._

“Of course peace doesn’t come without a few costs.” Katsura reached for his sword, his expression as fierce as an executioner. “Namely a few hea—”

“Tsukuyo!” interjected Gintoki, all but shooting off his seat. “You haven’t told us what yours is.”

“Why do you always call on me?” Tsukuyo asked with a sigh. “Whatever. I would say it’s Princess Diane.”

“That’s British, too!!! What are Americans foreign to their own citizens or something? Does Hollywood meaning nothing?”      

“Yes.” Gintoki’s answer was a definitive as a door slam. “They ruined Dragon Ball.”

Shinpachi rolled his eyes. “I give up.”

Two more rounds of guessing occurred. Despite hints like “Ketsuno Ana,” and “Ghibli” and even “Otsu” from Shinpachi, who wasn’t even a player, Hasegawa had to be told that the Guess Word was “Favorite Celebrity”.

“Oh,” sighed Hasegawa. “How could I have guessed what I don’t have?”

“You don’t have a favorite celebrity, Hasegawa-san?” Shinpachi asked.

Covering his eyes with his hands, the Madao sobbed, “Why look up to somebody who I’ll never be?!”

Sighing, Shinpachi closed his eyes and shook his head. “Let’s just get going on the next card. Here, take it.”

“It’s a pain to wash mine,” whined Seita.

The Madao pronounced, “Mine is nothing; I lay bare.”

Gintoki said, “Mine keeps getting invaded by women.” He bent over in the seat. A kunai sailed over him landing in the couch where his head had been moments earlier.

Blowing smoke into the air, Tsukuyo said, “I would like to clarify that there is no activity between mine.”

Ignoring the tension in the room, Katsura crossed his arms. “I’m afraid it’s hard to answer because mine has changed so much through the ages.”

Shinpachi raised an eyebrow. “‘Ages’? Riiight. Well according to the rules, you’re only supposed to talk about the version of it that you have currently, not what you had in the pas—”

“Currently mine is one made of comfort, but that is only because I had sacrificed it in the past. But honestly, looking back now, I believe what I’ve had in the past to be a freer, truer form of it. With the grass beneath me cushioning me, supporting me, and nothing but the vast expanse of stars above me guiding me, lighting up the darkness. But even in the darkest of times, where the treetops obscured the starlight, I still had enough faith to always remember that my path of destiny led back up into the night sky, where the stars awaited me. Knowing thus, no matter whether or not I could see them, to this day the stars forever remain as my one and only true mine.”

Rivers of tears and snot ran down Kondo face. After taking a shaky inhale and sniffing, Kondo turned to Katsura and said, “I feel the same way!”

Eye twitching, Gintoki frowned, “Well, that’s great you feel that way because no one has a fricken clue as to what you just said—”

“I know exactly what you mean!” Hasegawa cried, rivers of tears and snot running down his face. Like he just smelled someone’s old, sweaty gym socks, Seita recoiled away from the hobo and latched onto Tsukuyo’s arm.

Wiping his eye with a finger, Kondo suggested, “We should all have a drink sometime.”

Katsura nodded. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Gintoki exclaimed.

The police commander took out his iPhone 29. “Then we should exchange numbers.”

Katsura held up a small black rectangular device. “Sorry, but I only have a pager.”

“Why are you carrying around something that isn’t from this century?!”

“I don’t have a phone,” Hasegawa explained, “But if you lift up an overturned cardboard box in the streets, I’ll be there.”

Gintoki was about to shout, “What are you under all the cardboard boxes in Edo?!” but that many Hasegawas was a far too horrifying mental image.

“That’s a shame,” Kondo said, pocketing his phone. “Well now you’re in the Hot Seat, Traveling Merchant-san.”

“Yes, so I am.”

“What? Hold on—Kondo-san, you haven’t even guessed what the Guess Word is yet,” said Gintoki.

Kondo serenely smiled, “I don’t need to say it…”

“…for I already know he’s right,” Katsura smiled satisfied.

“We don’t need words to communicate…”

“…for we are of one mind,” Katsura finished.

“What are you, King Kai?” exclaimed Gintoki.

 “Yeah, that’s right!” Hasegawa cried. “Wait, what are we talking about again?”

Recalling Katsura’s sermon, Gintoki looked down at the card which read “Bedsheets”. He recalled the lecture again. He looked to Shinpachi. Shinpachi shrugged and raised his hands. The glasses gave in and marked down three points for Kondo. Letting the matter go as well, Gintoki accepted a card from Shinpachi without a word. Leaning back against the couch, Gintoki picked his nose. “Eh, mine could be better. There’s no way in hell it could be worse.”

“Family!” Katsura guessed.

“H-Hey!” Shinpachi cried. “What is that supposed to mean?”

As soon as Katsura laid his eyes on the following card, he crossed his arms and chuckled. “When the need arises, I don’t let the lack of mine define me—”

“Balls,” Gintoki guessed. “I mean, chest.”

“Kyubei _janai._ Katsura _da_!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Gintoki picked a card from the box and, not wanting to acknowledge Katsura’s existence at the moment, held it out to Tsukuyo. She raised a hand. “I’m in the Hot Seat this turn.”

_That’s right!_ Gintoki thought. Slowly a wicked grin appeared on his face. _I don’t know what the points are, but I’m pretty sure she’s one of the people in the top. I have to make my hints extra hard…_

“Kyubei and I are nothing alike! I am far more seri—”

Gintoki slammed the card into Katsura’s face. “Here. Take the card and pass it on.” Grumbling, Katsura did as he was told. Meanwhile Gintoki happily began with, “In mine I was poisoned.”

Tsukuyo’s eyes widened. “You were…poisoned?” She raised up a hand full of knives. “By whom?”

Seita snorted, “I bet it was from Otae-san’s cooking.”

Gintoki waved a hand. “I know better than to eat her food.”

“Hey, stop it! Don’t make fun of _Aneue_!

“You know better than to eat her food, too.”

“T-That’s besides the point!”

Hasegawa’s face paled as he said, “Mine had answers like little fatty, toilet minor, and wiggled around.”

_…Diarrhea?_ Gintoki wondered.

Clasping his head, Seita squealed in a high pitched, “My precious bottle cap collection!” When Tsukuyo stated that Seita didn’t own such a collection, Seita asserted, “Mine does.”

Katsura smirked, “I eat mushrooms.”

Scratching the back of his head, Kondo admitted, “In mine I got suckered into buying a Jar of Happiness.”

“That’s five hints! Well, little miss guesser after one hint?” sneered Gintoki like he was imitating the gangster-turned cherry boy Sasaki Tetsunosuke. Leaning on the table, he drew close to her face, “What’s your guess, now? Huh? Huh?”

Tsukuyo raised a knife. “Shall I carve my guess into your forehead?”

Gintoki backpedaled into his seat faster than a mother could ask if her son ate a cookie from the cookie jar. “I-In mine I watched as someone dragged around a corpse.”

Continuing the second round, Kondo sighed, “In mine I slept with a giant swordfish.”

Katsura smirked, “I check to see if people’s piping works.”

Blood inexplicably trickled out of his mouth as Hasegawa recalled, “I took in a young girl after her mother collapsed and together we ate from trash bags, scrounged for toys for me, and slept in cardboard boxes.”

“What? You kidnapped some kid?!” Gintoki cried.

Seita explained, “All the time, mine speaks in rhyme—or says bad puns.”

“I-I don’t have any idea,” Tsukuyo admitted. “I pass. Start the third round of hints.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, the police chief confessed, “I got arrested for assault because I keep pressing a girl’s n—”  

“Here’s my hint!” Gintoki interjected.

“A what?” Seita wondered. “What body part starts with the letter n? Nose?”

“ANYWAY, after he dragged around the corpse for me, I ripped him in half and used him as a weapon.” Gintoki laughed at the memory. “That was pretty fun.”

Katsura smirked, “Not only do I fix pipes, but also I regularly jump into them, too.”

“I… I gave away ten million… yen…” The Madao collapsed onto the ground, blood spraying out of his mouth.     

Unperturbed, Seita began to sing, “Make it double. To unite all peoples within our nation. To extend our reach to the stars above. Uh, me. Surrender now or prepare to fight!”

“And that’s all the hints you’re going to get,” Gintoki jeered. Pointing to his forehead, he pressed, “So what’s your guess? Or are you going to carve a big, fat, whopping nothing on my forehead? Huh? Huh?”

Trembling with rage, Tsukuyo stammered, “I-It’s favorite anime character.”

“Nope, sorry, Tsukuyo-nee! It’s favorite Video Game Series or Character.”

“You’re one to talk, kid,” exclaimed Gintoki. “Yours was James from the Pokamon TV series!”

“But he and Jesse are in the original Yellow,” Seita countered. “And besides, Hasegawa-san was talking about Madaonaire, a TV show, too.”

“He’s a Madao; you can’t expect him to know better. And James is hardly the best model for kids the way he cross dresses every other epi—”

Katsura smiled, “I chose Katsuro as my favorite video game character, but my favorite from a TV series would be James, too. You could call him my inspiration.”

“He even influences adults?!” Gintoki cried.

Katsura held out a scrap of paper that had “St. Anne” hastily written on it. “They’re totally free. To-ta-ly free!”

Holding his fists near his head, Seita shook his head to the side as he wailed in a high pitched voice, “Coooool~!”

“STOP IT!”

“Well, everyone,” Shinpachi said with a reserved smile as he laid down his pencil. “That was the last round. The game’s over.”

As though Shinpachi had just announced a death in the family, everyone turned at him with a mix of surprised and sadness on their faces. _Could it be? Is it really the end?_ Gintoki wondered. A strange, unidentifiable emotion filled him. _If I’d have known the end was coming so soon I would have—I would have made sure to have guessed better so I would win!_ Gintoki jabbed his finger at Shinpachi like a crack of the whip. “Who has the most points? Who won?”

Shinpachi consulted his Handy Dandy Notebook. “Hold on, I need to count up everyone’s points.”

No one breathed as Shinpachi made notations on the page, adding up the numbers. Unblinking, they stared at him as though he was a new specimen of an insect. They all slowly leaned in like they were waiting in a theater for a movie to begin.

“It seems to be…”

Gintoki’s heart hammered in his chest like the beating of a war drum. His head spun like after a hard night’s drinking session.

“Oh, no, wait, that’s not right.”

His still open eyes watered, blurring his vision. His lungs burned. His back creaked from suspending him in the air as he leaned forward.

“Hold on a second.”

Hasegawa’s face turned blue. He trembled.

“No, give me a minute.”

Hasegawa’s entire body quivered like a last leaf on a tree branch.

“I got it!”

Hasegawa stilled, his mouth daring to curl upwards into a smile—

“Now let me double check, just to make sure I added everything right.”

_BANG!_

Hasegawa fell over sideways, slamming onto the table. He rolled onto the floor and dropped out of sight.

“The winner is…”

Gintoki smashed his hands onto the table, roaring, “Damnit, give us the answer—!!!”

Shinpachi jumped up with joy. “There’s a four way tie!”

Everyone blinked. “Eh?”

“So in order to break this impasse, we should hold a bonus round.” Shinpachi explained, “To keep things fair, I’ll be in the Hot Seat. We’ll determine the winner by whoever gives me the most helpful hint. It makes sense that to break the tie only those four people who make up the tie should give hints. However, that’ll probably be too few of hints. So everyone should participate. Therefore, whoever gives the most helpful hint should have their points doubled. That way it’s possible for everyone to win, not just those who are a part of the tie. Oh except for Hasegawa-san, because 0 times 2 is still 0.”

A pitiful moan arose from the floor.

“Is that all right with everyone?”

Tsukuyo nodded. “That sounds like the fairest option. Let’s do it.”

Shinpachi smile was as wide and genuine as Peter from the anime Heidi, Girl of the Alps. “Here, Gin-san. This is the next card.”

_All right. This is it._ Gintoki accepted the card such reverence it could have been the fabled Holy Grail King Arthur spent his entire lifetime searching for. _I have to use this card and carry me to victory: a wallet full of money! Now let’s see what it is—_

On the blank card in familiar handwriting “What Turns You On” was written.

A horrible sinking feeling clutched his stomach: just like the time he realized he would be playing hostess to the shogun, or when he ripped off all of the shogun’s hair, or when he kicked the can into the shogun’s head. His jerked his head to the side.

With his index and middle fingers, Shinpachi pushed his glasses higher on his nose. His glasses flashed in the light.

Gintoki’s face began to twitch uncontrollably. _N-Now, Shinpachi… there’s no need for this. I mean I didn’t do anything bad to you except not letting you play the game because you’re a pair of glasses. But you’re used to being called that by now, right? It’s not like we could ever stop using that gag. Like “oro” in Rurouni Kenshin, it’s a trademark. An endearing character quirk. Without it, you’d be unrecognizable. And yeah, I did say that I had no friends and that my family was as horribly bad as hell, but what’s a little teasing among friends and family? I may not have stopped Kondo-san from perving on Otae-san and her feet, but I don’t think there’s a person alive who could stop him from being a pervert, Otae-san included! So it’s not my fault. And you got to admit smacking you upside the head was fun. And that you did admit that Otae-san’s cooking sucked! So I didn’t do one bad thing to you that I should be punished for in this way. After all, if I don’t get paid, you don’t either! I mean, I was planning on blowing it at the casino to get away from all of you but that doesn’t matter. We don’t need to use this card—_

“Now, Gintoki,” Katsura began, taking the card from him.

“Huh? What? No, give it ba—!”

“It’s not fair that you get to hold onto the card for so long and brainstorm what to say.” Katsura glanced at the card before handing it to Kondo. As the card was silently passed around, everyone stared each other down as though they were attempting to figure out their strengths and weaknesses by their appearance like two sumo wrestlers before the start of match.

Oi _,_ oi _,_ oi _,_ Gintoki thought. _What’s with everyone putting on their game faces? Why are you passing on the card so calmly? Why isn’t anybody objecting to the risqué topic when this a kid’s game? Doesn’t anybody recognize Shinpachi’s handwriting? Did anyone actually_ read _the card?!_

Pounding his chest, Hasegawa grinned, “Mine is bikinis!”

“Y-You have a bikini?” Seita asked, his eye twitching.

“That’s right! I don’t wear them though. I use them for—”

“O-Okay, that’s enough!” Gintoki interrupted, throwing out a hand. _Shinpachi, you may have devised a strategy to get everyone to participate in this last round to have more opportunities for Seita to pick up something foul._ “Tsukuyo, what’s your hint?” Gintoki interrupted. _But what you didn’t take into account is that I’m not alone. I have Tsukuyo! We share the same goal of preserving Seita’s innocence. So come on, Tsuki,_ Gintoki pleaded with his eyes, _Don’t let me down!_

Catching Gintoki’s gaze, Tsukuyo gave one short nod, her eyes blazing. Turning to Shinpachi, she declared, “Mine friends use *** to *** and do ***!!”

_AAAH!!! She’s so filthy that she’s been censored!_

Finished, Tsukuyo crossed her arms and smirked at Gintoki, as smug as Matsudaira after he successfully deterred someone from hitting on his daughter. “Let’s see if you can top that, Gintoki.”

_You’d choose beating me at some stupid game over protecting an innocent’s mind from contamination?!_

Katsura crowed, “Mine is housewives!”

Kondo fidgeted in the seat, uncomfortable. “Mine is… radishes.”

Everyone turned to Kondo. “‘Radishes’?” repeated Zura. “How could anyone be turned on—?”

“Mine is turning on light switches!”

 Everyone turned to Gintoki. He panted with a speed to rival a dog, and his excess of sweat made him smell like a wet dog, too.

“Wow,” Kondo whistled. “I’m impressed. I thought I heard it all. I got to try that sometime.”

_What the hell is wrong with you people?!?!_

“Shinpachi.” Tsukuyo ordered, “Tell us your guess!”

“Hold on a moment, Tsukuyo-dono,” Katsura asked. “With everyone playing, there should be six hints a round, not five. Someone has yet to go.”

“U-Um…”

All eyes fixated on Seita, who was looking down at his toes, his face tinted red in embarrassment. “I, uh, don’t understand what the Guess Word is. Could someone explain it to—?”

“It’s very simple, Seita-kun!” Gintoki jumped in. “It’s just appliances that you turn on, is all. Aw, don’t give me that face. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Of course you have!” Seita retorted with a millisecond of hesitation. “Don’t you remember? Mom confiscated all of my video games because I got a failing grade on a history test thanks to your pack of lies! That’s why we’re playing ‘What’s Yours Like’!”

It was as though someone had dumped a bucket of water ice water over Gintoki. _It’s… it’s all my fault. I’m the reason why I’m in this mess. Me…_

“So can I just pass?” Seita asked.

“Sorry, Seita-kun,” Shinpachi said with a sympathetic smile. “But according to the rules, you can’t.”

A realization struck Gintoki like lightning. _No, it’s not my fault; it’s Shinpachi’s fault! And Tsukuyo’s, and Zura’s, and Hasegawa-san’s, and Kondo-san’s, and even Hinowa-san’s fault! I shouldn’t be held responsible if everyone else is a pervert! I shouldn’t have to clean up after their messes! And I don’t care how much crap they throw at me, I’m getting paid for playing this piece of shit game if it’s the last thing I do!_

“Fine,” conceded Seita with a sigh. Closing his eyes, Seita crossed his arms and stated, “Lamps.”

_After all that he copies me anyway?!_

“Now, Shinpachi!” declared Tsukuyo, ever the eager beaver. “Give us your guess!”

Furrowing his brow, Shinpachi stroked his chin. “Gee, I don’t know…”

_You know DAMN WELL what the Guess Word is!!!_

“Sorry, but Gin-san’s and Seita-kun’s hints of lamps and light switches threw me off. You’re going to have to give me more hints,” chuckled Shinpachi.

Gintoki’s eyes widened. _Wait, hold on. Since Shinpachi knows what the Guess Word is, he can pretend whoever he wants happened to give the “most helpful” hint. Shinpachi can singlehandedly determine who the winner is!_

As though he was calling his Joishishi to arms, Katsura swung his arm to the side and declared, “Then we must be more obvious in our hints!”

Gintoki sucked in a breath. _Shinpachi… Shinpachi’s turned it around. The point of the game is to give vague hints so the person in Hot Seat can’t guess correctly and get points. But rewarding the “most helpful” hint means everyone is now_ helping _the person in the Hot Seat! If they want to win, their hints will be obvious that the Guess Word is “What Turns You On”!_ Gintoki trembled like a rabbit trapped in headlights moments away from becoming roadkill. _Now Seita-kun’s is bound to learn_ something _! Like Phoenix Wright, Shinpachi has completely turned the concept of the game around!_

_No, no, no, Gintoki. Keep it together. You’re not dead yet. And as long as I’m alive, I’ll fight! The worst of times are when the Yorozuya need to force their biggest smiles. I just need to strategize._ Like Phoenix Wright, Gintoki entered the blue space of his mind to puzzle out the key to winning this trial. _If I want to be paid for wasting my life on this game, I need to identify my enemies. I, of course, won’t be saying anything foul and as long as Seita copies me, so that’s two players on my side. Zura is a traditionalist with his samurai bushido so that’s half of the players out—_

“I’ve climbed a roof to take a woman’s bra!” Katsura declared.

_Whoa, where did that come from?! This isn’t supposed to be a game about your past experiences. And why did you clarify that it’s a “woman’s” bra? Men don’t wear bras._

Waving a hand, Hasegawa laughed, “Every man becomes an underwear thief at some point in their lives, big deal.”

_Ah, yes, Hasegawa-san. He’s just a hopeless Madao not worth listening to. No one pays a lick of attention to him no matter what he says, least of all Seita-kun has been creeped out by him a multitude of times during the game. Plus, Hasegawa-san already knows that it’s not possible for him to win, so he shouldn’t be participating—_

Blood dripping down his nose, Hasegawa grinned, “I regularly go to see strippers pole dance.”

“S-Strippers?” repeated Seita, as innocently as a child asking their parents where babies came from.

“Uh-huh! You know, people who take off all their cloth—”

Kondo threw his head back and laughed uproariously. “Watching people is nothing! You gotta do it yourself!”

  _R-Right, Kondo-san… Let’s see…_ As his mind’s gears kicked into overdrive, he began sweating bullets. If the number of beads of sweat on his face were actual bullets shot at him, Gintoki’s body would be so mutilated his corpse would be unidentifiable. _Well, like Kondo-san said during the character poll arc, he’s popular despite his penchant for fully exposing himself. So even if he stripped naked here and now that shouldn’t be the worse he’s ever done…_

“A true pervert stalker slides up and down on pipes, warms up your lover’s bathwater with your body, and gets laid with a gorilla in front of all their wedding guests at the reception like me.”

_Now we’re teaching Seita not terms, but bad habits!_

Tsukuyo snorted, “Hmph. You virgins haven’t gone all the way.”

_And neither have you!_

“Not only have my friends at Yoshiwara have *** they also *** if you ask them and *** three times a week and *** during the special course.”

Grasping at straws, Gintoki thought, _S-So the only people that I have to worry about are Tsukuyo and…_

Shinpachi smiled, “That’s a good hint, Tsukuyo-san. I think I’m starting to get an idea as to what the Guess Word might be.”

_And the Judas Shinpachi. And how could you possibly know what that hint was? It’s censored!_

Gintoki racked his brain for ideas, but his mind was as empty as his wallet. _I’m going down faster than the Titanic, aren’t I?_ Gintoki breathed out slowly through his clenched teeth. _I’m… I’m screwed._ In his mind he could already see the courtroom doors slamming shut.

Standing up, Katsura argued with Kondo, “But you’ve never gotten Otae-san to like you. I was so trusted by a woman after a couple of days that she slept in a breezy yukata while I was in the next room!”

_If Ikumatsu-san ever heard you say that she’d never trust you again! And why are you proud of that? You shouldn’t throw away your samurai honor to be in competition with Kondo-san; anybody’s a nobler human being than he is. And anyway, didn’t you skip me and Seita-kun’s turn—_

Leaping to his feet, Kondo cried, “Otae-san is the love of my life and I am hers! It won’t be that much longer until we get married!”

Katsura snorted, “Don’t make me laugh. The only way Otae-san would marry you is if you collared and shackled her like some slave. She would run away like Hasegawa’s wife than ever live in the same zoo as a gorilla like you.”

“Hey!” Hasegawa exclaimed, tears in his eyes. Standing up, he clasped Katsura’s shoulder and forcibly turned the Joi to face him. “Hatsu loves me! She just left because I lost my job!”

“That’s right,” Kondo emphatically agreed. “And my job as Shinsengumi commander in chief is as secure as the sun’s position in the sky!”

“Yeah, sure,” laughed Hasegawa. “But Otae-san’s job as a cabaret girl isn’t. If that stupid samurai dojo of hers which she’s forgotten about for 200 episodes doesn’t become a success she could become one of them slutty prostitutes in Yoshiwara. And even then she wouldn’t let you lay her.”

Spittle flying, Kondo fisted Hasegawa’s haori and screamed…

In one deadly arc, Katsura unsheathed his sword and roared…

A dozen kunai appeared in Tsukuyo’s hands with a flick of her wrist. The water in the air around steamed from her boiling fury as she snarled…

A vessel bursting in his forehead, Shinpachi raised a bokken above his head and shrieked…  

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!”

_…Oh no._

Katsura jumped onto Hasegawa, pinning him on the couch and sending Seita scrambling. Punching and bashing his sword’s hilt into his face, Katsura cried, “On Leader’s and Shinpachi’s behalf, I will defend Otae-san’s honor! I will never let her marry some tax robbing, government boot licking, and Amanto loving scumbag like you!”

With every blow Hasegawa’s face resembled more and more like a bunch of grapes. Despite the pain and the blood running down his face, he grinned, “I’m a—Ugh!—Masochist. Bring it—OW!—on.” 

Shinpachi sat on Katsura’s shoulders, strangling the Joi leader with his legs and pulling on his hair with his free hand. “A bumbling, airheaded idiot is the last person I want defending _Aneue_!”

Dodging a kunai from Tsukuyo, Kondo chimed in, “Yeah, as Otae-san’s future husband I’m her sole protector!”

Shinpachi swung his bokken at Kondo’s head. “No way in hell am I becoming your brother-in-law!”

“Before you become so attracted to women, you should learn to appreciate them more!” Tsukuyo spun around in a roundhouse kick, which Kondo barely managed to duck beneath.

Gintoki, utterly forgotten, stared at the scene before him in open mouthed amazement. _Crap is flying and it’s not at me!_ Unable to move from his seat, he soaked in the moment which was as rare as a Gintama episode not making its fans either laugh or cry.

“Aaah!”

Hands protecting his head, Seita dodged a stray punch from Katsura. At the edge of the couch, he curled up into a trembling ball, staring at the brawl in terror.   

_F-Forget Seita-kun learning something, he’s going to die here! And then I won’t get paid!_

“Huh?” Seita turned to see Gintoki jumping across the expanse between the couches towards him, his face resembling a crazed drunk attacking the bartender.

“Come here, paycheck!”

Seita’s scream broke all of the glass in the room.  

Gintoki landed on Seita, completely hiding him from view using his bigger body. The money hungry Yorozuya boss clamped his hands over Seita’s ears. “Now you won’t hear anything dirty!”

Seita’s cries were muffled by Gintoki’s chest and his desperate kicks and punches did nothing to free him against the mighty White Demon.

Gintoki raised his head and laughed, “Ha, ha, ha, I should have done this from the start! Huh?”

There next to Gintoki’s spot on the couch on the floor was Shinpachi’s notebook. Grinning, Satan beckoned with a finger.

Gintoki succumbed to the temptation. 

He leapt off of Seita with enough force to knock the couch backwards, frightening the boy. Katsura, Shinpachi, and Hasegawa continuing fighting as though nothing occurred. Gintoki snatched the notebook off the ground. “There’s no way that lying, cheating, backstabbing Shinpachi didn’t mess with the scores. Four way tie my ass!” Bringing the paper up to the tip of his nose, Gintoki scanned the page as though he was double checking that he had violated the small print of a contract. “Let’s see.” Counting up the tally marks, Gintoki added, “That’s six points for Seita-kun, zero for Hasegawa-san, Kondo-san got six points somehow, four points for Zura, six for Tsukuyo, and…”

Next to Gintoki’s name there were seven tally marks.

Ripping the paper in two, Gintoki yelled, “I WON?!?!”

Snarling like a lion, Gintoki tore the paper into shreds. “That little bastard! When I get my hands on him, I’m gonna…”

Surprised at the sudden silence except for the sounds of paper tearing, Gintoki turned around. Katsura, Hasegawa, Shinpachi, Kondo, and Tsukuyo were staring at him from behind with shadowed-over eyes.

Gintoki broke out into a cold sweat.

“Wha-Wha-What? You think I’m ly-lying or something? Look, here’s the—”

Gintoki stared at the bits of paper in his hand and on the floor.

“D-Don’t worry! This is nothing a little tape couldn’t fix! Why this piece goes here and this one there and—” But with Shinpachi recording the points with tally marks, it was impossible to match them up to people’s names in a plausible fashion.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw everyone had raised their gleaming weapons.

“N-Now there’s no need—”

With a collective roar, everyone rushed at Gintoki.

Something blasted the front of the remains of the Yorozuya’s door, causing the entire building to shake. Picking themselves up, everyone turned around to see a figure standing in the gaping hole of the front wall.

Placing her smoking umbrella on her shoulder, Kagura casually munched on a piece of sukonbu and said, “Hey, Zura. The Shinsengumi are looking for you. You better get out of here.” Behind her, Sadaharu barked happily.

“What?” Kondo gasped, turning to “the traveling merchant”.

In the brawl, the two strands of hair Katsura had tied under his nose had come undone, leaving his face free to examine. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

Katsura took out a spherical bomb from his kimono and threw it at the table, the center of the room.

Everything exploded.

* * *

In the wake of the “What’s Yours Like?” game Edo underwent drastic changes.

All merchants entering the city were thoroughly interrogated and investigated to determine if they had terrorist connections. Enough highly successful merchants were offended that they encouraged all of their business partners to not invest in the city. This caused an unprecedented economic turndown in Edo, which left many unemployed. The streets and alleyways become flooded with the homeless, discouraging regular civilians exiting their homes. However, the Shinsengumi vowed that all dark alleyways would be policed to ensure the safety of all hobos. No homeless man or woman, they vowed, would be taken advantage of by a predator lurking in the shadows. In these so called “Dark Ages”, parents warned their children before bedtime to never overturn a cardboard lying in the street, lest they come face to face with a horrifying, disturbing monster.

Although enclosed by this depressing city, Gintoki found himself in a familiar, almost comforting, setting.

“Hey, Gintoki,” Katsura asked, “when do you think they’ll let us out of here?”

“Whenever they execute us.”

Gintoki awaited his blessed escape from this life in a dingy jail cell. Unfortunately, he had to endure the Purgatory of being trapped with Katsura before he could pass through the pearly white gates of Heaven.

“Aw, come on, Gintoki,” laughed Katsura. He sat Indian-style some with his hands hidden in his kimono as though he was sitting at a table waiting to enjoy a warm home cooked meal. “Don’t be so pessimistic. You know I was talking about my men freeing us.”

Gintoki lay on the ground sideways some distance away with his back towards Katsura. He propped up his head with one hand. The other halfheartedly waved at his companion. “Just shut up, would you?”

“Sure, it was a stroke of bad luck for you to be housing me when the Shinsengumi were looking for me, but that’s no reason to be such a Sour Patch Kid.”

Gintoki clawed his fingers into the dirt. Who had invited himself over? Who had asked him to leave?

“And being jailed is old hat to us, right?” Fondly staring at the gray brick walls, Katsura smiled, “Ah, the many hours spent playing Uno.”

Gintoki eyes grew bloodshot. Did he just mention a game?

“So we should always look on the bright side of things. Why, now we have all the time in the world to enjoy quality bonding time.”

In a flash, Gintoki crossed the distance between them and had his fingers wrapped around Katsura’s neck. His body wound up like a spring, he hissed, “I thought I told you to shut up.”

“Now, now, Gintoki. You don’t want my murder to be added to your list of charges, do you? Not that you’d actually do i—”

Grinning like a child on Christmas, Gintoki’s fingers tightened around Katsura’s neck.

“Gin-san!”

Surprised, Gintoki loosen his grip. Katsura fell down at Gintoki’s feet, coughing and spluttering up blood.

Seita ran up to the prison bars, waving his hand overhead. “You’re okay!”

“What do you want, kid?” Gintoki asked, walking to the bars, but not before subtly kicking Katsura in the gut.

Eyes watering, Seita sniffed, “I heard about what happened. That you and Katsura-san had been jailed all because you agreed to play with me.” Wiping his eyes with his fists, Seita sniffed, “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. You were just being nice to me and this happened… I’m so sorry. I’m so, so very sorry…”

Gintoki silently listened to his muffled sobs. Then he reached out between the bars and rested his hand on Seita’s head.

“H-Huh?”

“Listen, kid. It’s not your fault that all of the adults of this world are lying, cheating scumbags who are good at nothing but dragging down others around them. And there’s little someone could do to change them.”

Seita lowered his gaze to the ground. “T-Then I can’t…”

“No. There’s one thing you can do.”

Gasping, Seita raised his head and stared up at Gintoki, wide-eyed.

“You can grow up into an honorable man. That way, no matter how awful this world’s adults are, there’ll always be one adult who is kind and honest and true.”

“G-Gin-san…” Seita hiccupped.

“I know you can do it,” smiled Gintoki as he retracted his hand.

“Thanks,” murmured Seita. He smiled, “Heh, here I was the one who came to cheer you up and yet you were the one who comforted me. So I think that makes you one of the few good adults, Gin-san.”

Gintoki exhaled a laugh. Dipping his head slightly, he closed his eyes and said, “No, Seita-kun, I am definitely one of good-for-noth—”

“That’s why I brought this with me.” Grinning, Seita held up a yellow box.

The “What’s Yours Like” box.

Gintoki’s blood froze.

“I was thinking that more players would make things even more funner than last time.” Seita looked over his shoulder. “Right, guys?”

Voices drifted towards Gintoki’s ears from the dark recesses of the prison hallway.

“Ugh, why did I ever agree to this?”

“Don’t sell it short. I can tell there’s more to this game than meets the eye.”

“Yeah, don’t be such a grump! How can we not play when a child asks?”

“…”

“I’ll participate in any game anytime, anywhere if I get to play with him!”

Out of the shadows stepped a reluctant Hijikata, a grinning Sougo, a smiling Otae, and a silent Elizabeth. From the ceiling hung Sac-chan.

_A-A-A-Ah…_

“And since this wasn’t an even number,” Seita continued, “I also asked…”

“Good evening, everyone.” The shogun stepped out of the shadows. “I would love to play a game that my civilians amuse themselves with.”

Gintoki fell to his knees. Clawing his head, he leaned back and screamed.

“GODDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!”


	2. Turn Order, Seating Arrangement, and Extra Gags

Here is a bonus section with extra gags and tidbits that didn't quite make it into the story. It also has other things like descriptions of the turn order and seating arrangement which could make matters clearer. Author notes are written in italics to provide context. Enjoy!

* * *

Turn Order:

Seita

Hasegawa/Madao

Kondo

Katsura

Gintoki

Tsukuyo

* * *

Seating:

The seating follows the turn order. Tsukuyo sits on the end of the couch on the left with Seita in the middle and Hasegawa on the other end. Directly across from Hasegawa is Kondo. Katsura is in the middle and Gintoki sits at the end. Shinpachi sits on the floor between the two couches. In other words:

Hasegawa           Kondo

Seita                   Katsura

Tsukuyo             Gintoki

            Shinpachi

The table is in the space between the names. Hope that clears things up for you. 

* * *

Inspiration for the Story:

For those who don't know, What's Yours Like? is a real game that you can buy. My family played it and after hearing them give hints like "Mine is empty" and "Stuff comes out of mine when I tilt it" for the Guess Word of Head, I realized that I could imagine the Gintama characters saying such things. And thus this fic was born. All but Favorite Animal, Food, and Video Game Character are actual real cards in the game. I cannot take full credit for the some of the jokes, a part of the ending, and the decisions of what cards to include; my brother helped me.

* * *

Extra Gags:

_Most of these gags were cut to shorten the length of the story and others referenced things too obscure._

Seita cried, "I want to play with 'What's Yours Like?' with you!"

"That's disgusting." Gintoki declared, launching up from the chair up and backing up against the wall in horror. "Children your age shouldn't be so brazenly talking about that. And why mine? Wouldn't Tsukuyo be much better?"

Lowering the box, Seita pouted, "But I wanted to play with you and Tsukuyo-nee."

Emphatically pointing with the JUMP issue, Gintoki shouted, "When that goes down you're not getting anywhere in between us!"

"What in the world are you talking about?" Tsukuyo stepped alongside the young boy and held up the box for him. "It's just a game."

"A game?" Gintoki blinked. Rubbing his chin, he contemplated Tsukuyo's answer with the insanity of the ancient Thinker statue. "I suppose under certain circumstances you could consider it a game. But when partaking in its purest essence, it can be so much more…"

"No, Gin-san. Look." Seita took off the top of the box and held up a handful of orange and purple square cards.

Eyebrow raised, Gintoki took the proffered cards and read the words written on them aloud. "Dresser, Favorite Restaurant, Armpit… hey, what is this?"

"That's what we've been trying to explain all this time," Tsukuyo sighed. "It's a board… card… it's a game called 'What's Yours Like?'"

"You say you've been trying to explain it to me, but it seems like you don't know what it is either."

"S-Shut up," Tsukuyo cried, her face flushing in embarrassment.

"You were the one who sounded completely off base. Just what were you thinking, Gin-san?"

"Shut up, Shinpachi."

* * *

"And it sounds like the more people who play, the funner it is!" Seita grinned like a child about to blow out the candles on his birthday cake.

"Seems like he needs to work on his English, too—I mean, Japanese," Katsura corrected himself. "We should play Scrabble."

"There is no Japanese Scrabble," Shinpachi corrected Katsura.

* * *

Favorite Animal Card:

"Kimba the White Lion."

"That's so  _old_!" Shinpachi cried. "And obscure! Lions aren't normally white! Not to mention you were supposed to choose an animal species, not a fictional individual."

"Wait," Seita frowned, confused. "Do you mean the Lion King?"

Katsura slammed both of his hands on the table, yelling, "That's a rip-off!" Seita jumped. Leaning forward, the he ranted like a fanatic. "Disney stole all of the inspiration from Kimba the White Lion, which shamelessly began production the year Kimba's creator died! Both Simba and Kimba's fathers were the king of the jungle who were lured into a canyon where they were killed and their throne usurped by evil lions named Scar or in Kimba's case, Claw! There are also two wise baboons and two parrots and two hyenas—"

_Everything Katsura says is true. The similarities go even farther, but I couldn't have Katsura fill an entire page with a rant. FYI I only know of Kimba the White Lion because of the commercials at the end of the old Pokémon VHS. XD._

* * *

Clothes Card:

Crossing his arms, Gintoki leaned back against the couch and smirked, "Mine hangs off my body." A dagger lodged itself in his forehead. "Gah!"

"Hmph." Tsukuyo slowly lowered her outstretched arm. "That's what you get for sounding so filthy." Raising her chin in the air, Tsukuyo declared, "Mine has hidden compartments which I hide things in."

"And you called me dirty?" Gintoki cried, ripping out the kunai from his head causing blood to fly.

After rubbing his chin for a moment, Kondo nodded. "I don't use mine much."

Gintoki whipped the bloody kunai to his right to point at Kondo, forcing Katsura, who sat between them, to lean back to avoid a blood spray. "And you hit me with a dagger?"

* * *

Favorite Hobby Card:

Katsura cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention. "Mine is using smoke bombs and grenades. I also like to use nmaibo as a smokescreen. With all the different colored smoke I can use, they're quite handy at setting a scene's mood. And they leave a variety of scents for every occasion. No terrorist living on the run should go without one."

* * *

 

Favorite Hobby Card:

As furious as a hornet, Katsura reached for the hilt of his sword, about to sting his prey. "Mine is purchasing weapons like these—"

"How are you sitting with a sword at your belt?" Kondo asked in amazement.

"I stuffed it in between the couch cushions. You're doing it, too. I use these weapons to—"

"Oh yeah, that's right. So I am."

"To gut the filthy Shinsen—"

* * *

Favorite Hobby Card:

_Katsura and Kondo go on a tirade about killing each other and give Seita too many hints (see above). Shinpachi suggests letting Seita have two points which Gintoki protests._

Crossing his arms, Zura shook his head so mournfully one would have believed his grandmother was dead. "I'm disappointed in you, Gintoki. I never knew you were so heartless as to not allow a child to have a handicap."

"What would you expect from a good-for-nothing?" shrugged Shinpachi.

"A wanted terrorist," nodded Kondo.

"And a free loader like me!" smiled Hasegawa.

"Hey! I do pay the rent! Every… once in a while." Letting out an irritated exhale, "Fine, whatever. Let him have his two points."  _After all there's no way an adult can't win at a kid's game._

* * *

Favorite Food Card:

Gintoki, whose hand was raised in the perverted police chief's direction, said, "Everyone, what's your favorite food? Mine is a strawberry parfait."

Flustered, Tsukuyo muttered, "Mine is drinking saké."

"Mine is soba. Or ramen," Zura added, a wince of regret on his face. He stuffed his hands into his kimono and bowed his head as though he was as sinner ashamedly seeking repentance, or, more aptly, as though he was a high school girl who accidently blurted her feelings to her senpai.

* * *

Bedsheets Card:

Gintoki said, "Mine keeps getting invaded by women." He bent over in the seat. A kunai sailed over him landing in the couch where his head had been moments earlier. A sharp, stabbing pain struck the top of Gintoki's bowled over head; evidently Tsukuyo had thrown two daggers at the same time. A fountain of red gushing from his head, Gintoki keeled over sideways onto the floor.

Like a refined noblewoman, Tsukuyo sat straight, shoulders thrown back, and eyes closed like a dignified noblewoman, but the large smirk destroyed the image. "I would like to clarify that there is no activity between mine."

A bloody hand slammed a dagger onto the table. A shaking Gintoki followed its appearance for he partly lifted himself off the ground. Eyes trained on the blond woman, he hissed, "D-Did you know I was going to dodge? Because if not, you would have hit my ba—"

Tsukuyo flicked another knife at his head. Gintoki dropped to the floor, shouting all manner of curses.

* * *

Favorite Video Game Character Card:

Pressing a napkin to his eye, Seita cried, "I can't believe he's gone. I miss him." Standing up he shouted, "He's standing right here!" He sat back down and raised a finger. "Ah, that's right." He looked around at everyone staring at him. Then he clamped his hands to his head and wailed, "I'm all mixed up!"

"S-So am I," Tsukuyo admitted. "I pass."

_This refers to one of my favorite episodes of the Pokémon Indigo League (Kanto). James visits his parents' home and tells a tale in which his younger self froze to death. Seita recites how Ash and Brock believe the story and how Misty admonishes them. Cut because too obscure. I chose the St. Anne scene instead._

* * *

Thanks for reading and supporting this! I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> This time the objective of the second game is to keep the Shogun from believing his normal subjects act like Gintoki and friends! Don't forget there are extra gags in the next chapter. Let me know your thoughts before you go!
> 
> P.S. This was originally posted on ff net where script formatted stories aren't accepted by their guidelines. I decided to keep everything the way it normally is despite this being a different website.


End file.
